


Quarantined

by patchworkct



Category: Free!
Genre: Bottom Nanase Haruka, COVID-19, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Hazuki Nagisa/Ryuugazaki Rei, M/M, One Shot, Smut, Stay Home, Top Tachibana Makoto, Wash Your Hands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:21:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23256115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchworkct/pseuds/patchworkct
Summary: "The first few days of quarantine were great. Haru spent the weekend cuddled with Makoto on the couch, half watching the National Geographic Channel and half basking the warmth of each other’s presence. That was four days ago, and now Haru prays that they won’t be sick of each other by the end of all this—whenever that’s going to be."In which Haru and Makoto are quarantined in their apartment for a while, and they must think of ways to keep themselves occupied.
Relationships: Nanase Haruka/Tachibana Makoto
Comments: 2
Kudos: 118





	Quarantined

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This is my first fic so I hope you enjoy! :)

Haru was never any good at being bottled up, which is why he is on his hands and knees, scrubbing the inside of the oven, clearing out the charred remains of some dinner Makoto exploded ages ago. He is running out of chores to do in the small apartment he shared with Makoto, already having swept the floor, dusted all the shelves, books and knickknacks they had both collected during their travels, and even cleaning the toilet. Haru has no idea how long he is going to last in quarantine without going completely insane. And it doesn’t help that he could see the pool fitness center from his bedroom window.

  
On the other hand, Makoto seems to enjoy himself throughout all this—watching Haru pace around the living room with amusement as he reads the novel he has been putting off for a while. It isn’t like he doesn’t enjoy spending time with his boyfriend. With the Olympics coming up, Haru’s schedule was jammed with swim practices and meetings with sponsors and occasionally the press. By the time Haru got home every evening, he barely had enough energy to make dinner for the two of them before going to bed. Makoto’s job as an assistant coach was also demanding, and he often ate dinner reading the stack of swimming regimens he had to make for his students.

  
Then one night they got an email from their landlord telling them someone in their apartment building had a strange new virus and that everyone should just stay inside their homes for a while. Haru didn’t think it was a big deal at first, but when he mentioned it to his coach, he was ordered to stay home.

  
“The last thing we need is for you to get some lung disease, or whatever, right before the Olympics,” he had said.

  
The first few days of quarantine were great. Haru spent the weekend cuddled with Makoto on the couch, half watching the National Geographic Channel and half basking the warmth of each other’s presence.

  
That was four days ago, and now Haru prays that they won’t be sick of each other by the end of all this—whenever that’s going to be.

  
“Haru-chan, why are you in the oven?”

  
Makoto leans over him with his eyebrows raised and that smile that made him want melt into a puddle.

  
He crawls out of the oven to give him a look.

  
“Drop the -chan” he says, muffled under his cleaning mask.

  
“Sorry,” Makoto chuckles. “You know, I’m all for this whole cleaning spree you’ve got going on, but why don’t you take a break for a little bit? You’ve been scrubbing the kitchen all day!”

  
“It hasn’t been that long,” Haru huffs.

  
Makoto closes the oven door between them with a squeak—he should really grease up those hinges later. He holds out his hand. Haru sighs, sliding his mask off his face and removing his rubber gloves.

  
“Fine,” he says as he takes his hand and let Makoto pull him up.

  
Makoto always knows when he needs to slow down, his hand grounding him, bringing his mind back to the present.

  
Makoto leans down and kisses his cheek sweetly, and Haru feels the tips of his ears blush as he looks to the side.

  
“I’m going to take a bath,” Haru says, lightly tugging Makoto’s t-shirt.

  
Now it is his turn to blush.

  
“Oh-okay.”  
  


___

“This is nice,”

  
“Mmm—”

  
Their tub is small, but they make it work, Haru sitting in between Makoto’s legs, lying back on his chest. The sound of the water dripping calms his mind, and he feels himself relaxing into Makoto’s strong body. He is safe here in this little steamy room.

  
Haru rests his head back on Makoto’s right shoulder, and he leans over and kisses his exposed neck, arms wrapping around his middle.

  
“I’ve missed this,” Makoto says, lips gliding closer to the sensitive spot under his jaw. “I’ve missed us.”

  
Lately when they were intimate, they were rushed, as if they were lit sparklers that burned out in seconds. Not to say he didn’t enjoy their morning quickies or the late night makeout sessions that turned them both into a trembling mess hurtling toward climax. But Haru knows Makoto needs more than that. He needs to feel, to take his time. Sure, Haru likes it when his sweet, kindhearted Makoto slams him into the mattress and gets them both off hard and fast, but when Makoto takes his time, Haru feels so good he nearly loses his mind.

  
One of Makoto’s hands crawls up his side, his breath shuttering as his thumb grazes his nipple. He kisses his ear.

  
“What are you thinking about?” Makoto murmurs.

  
“You.”

  
He breathes a laugh. “What about me?”

  
“Hmm…” He closes his eyes and exhales. He thinks about the lazy summers in Iwatobi when he and Makoto would lounge on the tatami in the sunroom all day, letting their fingers graze the freshly tanned skin from swimming in the sun. They were just figuring out their feelings for each other back then, but when Makoto ran his hand up his neck to cup his face, his pinkie smoothing the tenseness out of his eyebrow, Haru knew he would never feel this close to anyone else.

  
Makoto pinches his nipple, waking him up from his daze.

  
“You’re much bolder than you were in high school,” he smirks.

  
He laughs into his wet hair and kisses the crown of his head.

  
“Haru-chan hasn’t changed much since high school,” Makoto says, earning him a light shove on the arm.

  
“Drop the -chan, idiot,” Haru grumbles without any malice behind it.

  
___

  
The next day, Haru sleeps in. Normally he was up before the sun rose, getting ready for his morning run or early morning swim practice, but since he can’t do either of those things, he figures there is no point in getting out of bed so early. Plus, he is especially comfortable with Makoto pressed against his back and their legs tangled together. Makoto always clings to him in his sleep, leaving him with the precarious task of crawling out of his grasp in the early morning without waking the sleeping giant. Fortunately, Makoto is a heavier sleeper than him, but leaving him always left him with a pang of sadness. Now he doesn’t have to move. He can just enjoy Makoto’s steady breath and the rise and fall of his chest against his back. Sometime in the middle of the night, Makoto threw his arm over his side, so Haru reaches for his hand, cradles it to his chest, and kisses his fingers before drifting back to sleep.

  
___

“Triple word score, baby!”

  
“Fuck! You dick!”

  
“Makoto, 231 points. Haru-chan with 73,” Makoto says, making a show of tallying the points on the scrap paper.

  
“Okay but how is ‘chutzpah’ a word?” Haru huffs, crossing his arms across his chest.

  
“I don’t make the rules,” Makoto shrugs with too wide a smile.

  
Haru can never beat Makoto at Scrabble, and it kind of drives him crazy. Just when Haru is about to attempt to make a word out of his useless jumble of letters, a Skype call comes through his laptop. Thank god. He retrieves the laptop from the floor and stacks it on top of the Scrabble board, wooden tiles scattering everywhere.

  
“Hey!” Makoto protests just as Nagisa pops up on screen.

  
“Haru-chan! You picked up!”

  
“Hey Nagisa,” Haru says.

  
“Hi Nagisa!” Makoto says in the background, picking up the stray Scrabble tiles from the floor. He’ll help clean those up later.

  
“Oh my god you won’t believe what happened last night! I was shook,” Nagisa says before launching into a crazy story about how his neighbor got stuck in the apartment elevator for three hours and drank a whole bottle of sake (and probably something else) to pass the time.

  
“By the time the firemen opened the door, he was standing there, bare-ass naked and looking for a fight. The dude was a good two heads shorter than this fireman. He got absolutely wrecked! It was so fucking hilarious!”

  
Haru snorts. He can relate to the guy trapped in the elevator. Whatever drugs he was on, he wanted some.

  
“How’s Rei doing?” Makoto says, scooching shoulder to shoulder with Haru.

  
Nagisa lets out a dramatic sigh.

  
“He works all the time! He practically sleeps at the hospital now.”

  
Rei is in the middle of med school, working on his residency at a large hospital at the University of Tokyo.

  
“I wish he would just stay home. I’m so worried he might get sick! I’m too young to be a widow!”

  
“I’m sure he will be fine,” Makoto says in his calming, mother hen voice. “You know Rei is always careful.”

  
“Mm,” Haru nods.

  
Nagisa takes a breath.

  
“You’re right…I’m just paranoid. It’s just so scary now, you know,” He looks down, fiddling with a piece of long blonde hair and then snapping back to his bubbly Nagisa smile.

  
“What about you two? How are you getting on in quarantine? Or should I say, _getting it on_?” he says wagging his eyebrows.

  
Makoto covers his face in his hands, ears turning bright red.

  
“Quarantine is a pain. The sex is great though.”

  
“HARU!” Makoto cries while Haru slips out a small smirk.

  
“Ooooh! Spicy! I have to go. Rei is calling, but you best believe I want to hear all those nasty details later, Haru.”

  
And with that Nagisa’s picture blacks out, leaving the pair in a flustered silence.

  
“Why do you keep egging Nagisa on like that?” Makoto says.

  
“I don’t know,” Haru says getting up from the floor and kissing the top of Makoto’s still burning head. “It’s fun.”

___  


  
After a full week of not leaving the apartment, Haru is beginning to become stir-crazy again. He has somewhat of a routine, making sure to do the exercises his coach sent him so he doesn’t get out of shape by the time he can go back to the pool. But still the hours stretch on. Even Makoto is jaded, moping around the apartment in his pajamas, picking up a book and then putting it down again, only to make another lap to the bed where he usually falls asleep at all hours of the day. Haru wonders if he isn’t being entertaining enough for him.

  
Over the past week, they’ve tried having sex every which way, trying positions that would have made Makoto blush two weeks ago. Though the sex was hardly boring, the honeymoon stage of quarantine is over. Now they are too tired and lazy to do much in bed.

  
Haru looks longingly outside at the fitness center in the distance and wishes he could just take one quick dip in the pool. No one had to know. Who cares if all the buildings are shut down? He could pick a lock somewhere—if he knew how. He’ll google it later.

  
Makoto moans on the bed and rolls onto his back, legs and arms stretched out like a starfish.

  
“Haru, I’m bored.”

  
He gets up from his spot at the window and crawls on top of him.

  
“What do you want me to do about it?” He says with a hint of slyness.

  
“Hmm…” he hooks his arms around his back and rolls over so they’re both lying on their side. “I just want to look at you for a bit, if that’s okay.”

  
The request surprises him a little. He’s known Makoto so long he could probably recall all the features of his face as easily as his own. Haru doesn’t think of himself as particularly interesting to look at either. People often described his face as blank and ordinary, and that was alright. Sometimes he doesn’t know what Makoto sees in him that was so amazing, but he is incredibly lucky to have someone who thought he was worth looking at.

  
“Okay,” Haru says quietly, studying the face of the man he loved so much he could not translate it into words.

  
He was never good with words, but somehow Makoto understands him. His green eyes are warm, and he can see in them the time when they were little, cuddling together under the kotatsu during the winter. Makoto was drifting to sleep and asked if Haru would stay with him forever and he said yes. He meant it. They held hands, and by the time Haru’s grandmother came into the room with two steaming cups of hot chocolate, the two boys were wrapped up in each other, sleeping gently.

  
The warmth from the memory comes from inside his chest and travels up his throat to his mouth, twisting it up into a smile, and then to his own blue eyes, shimmering like water. Makoto can feel it too.

  
“Haruka,” he says before their lips meet.

  
Makoto’s hands are everywhere, slipping under his shirt to feel the sharp edges of his shoulder blades. Haru combs his fingers through the mess of brown hair. He smells like tangerine shampoo.  
He keeps pushing his shirt up until he finds his nipples and teases them with his thumbs. Haru involuntarily bucks forward, his thigh making contact with the bulge in Makoto’s sweatpants.  
“Mako—” he moans into his mouth, and he gets the message.

  
He sits Haru up on his lap and pulls the shirt over his head before discarding his own. Haru wraps his arms around his neck and begins to grind himself down. Makoto lets out a breathy cry from the back of his throat.

  
Maybe the honeymoon stage isn’t over quite yet.

  
“Baby, can we slow down?”

  
Haru stills his gyrating hips and nods. Time has ceased to exist. They have all the time in the world for this now.

  
Makoto flips them over so Haru is on his back, resting on a pile of pillows and blankets in their unmade bed like a nest. He kisses his forehead and Haru lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.  
In a time when everything is so uncertain, here is the one thing that is: Makoto loves Haru, and Haru loves Makoto—more than he cares to admit.

  
As he moves his lips to his left temple, Makoto breathes, “What are you thinking about?”

  
Haru touches his cheek and guides him back so their lips meet again, this time with a sweetness that reminds him of swimming in a pool of cherry blossoms and combing the petals out of Makoto’s hair with slow fingers.

  
“I love you,” Haru says, and he means it with every cell in his body.

  
Makoto’s breath hitches and he smiles that smile that makes his insides glow, like he’s the most precious thing in the world.

  
“I love you too,” he says, hugging him tighter.

  
They kiss again, and this time Makoto slides his tongue against his and the room becomes instantly hotter as if every place Makoto touched is burning. Makoto is an incredible kisser.

  
“You’re so beautiful,” Makoto says after they part and Haru’s limbs become loose and undone.

  
Haru grabs his waist and pulls him down, their arousals grinding against each other.

  
“Mako,” he says latching onto his bottom lip and sucking. “I want you.”

  
“Okay,” he breathes into his mouth.

  
There’s some fumbling in the bedside table drawer and maneuvering to pull his sweatpants and boxers down. Soon they are both naked and Makoto is leaning over him, whispering sweet nothings in his ear as his fingers pull him apart from the inside.

  
Makoto drags another finger in and brushes it against the bundle of nerves that leaves Haru gasping.

  
“Mako, I need you now,” he moans. His fingers dig into the muscles of his back.

  
“Okay, baby. Okay.”

  
Makoto plants a quick kiss on his lips before hiking Haru’s legs over his shoulders and slowly pressing himself into him.

  
There is a moment of resistance, because of course Makoto, on top of everything else, has a huge dick.

  
“You okay?” he asks, expression full of concern.

  
“Mmn…yeah,” Haru says. “You can move now.”

  
Makoto holds him and rocks his hips back and forth slowly, as if going any faster would shatter him. Haru knows how much of a tease Makoto could be. The pace is more agonizing than the stretch of his insides.

  
Soon he picks up the pace. Haru grips the sheets like a lifeline as the waves of pleasure take over his body. Makoto squeezes his hips and then slides his hands up to frame his face.

  
“Haruka, remember our first time— _ah_ —when you said you could never get sick of me?”

  
They were both scared shitless their first time—terrified that one wrong move would ruin all that they had. They were in college then, fooling around in Haru’s apartment after class and swim practice when, all of a sudden, the air in the room became heavy and they were making out on the futon, taking each other’s clothes off with shaking hands. Something in them snapped, and soon they both were a sweaty mess of limbs moving together in a rhythm they both just knew.

  
“ _Mmn_ —yeah? Why?”

  
“Are you— _hah_ —Do you still mean it?”

  
Haru gave him an incredulous look and squeezed his biceps until his hips stilled

  
“Mako, I love you. Why would you think I am sick of you?”

  
“I don’t know…it’s just…you could have anyone you want. You’re so handsome and smart and funny and talented. And I’m just…me.”

  
Haru blinks and then breathes a harsh breath out of his nose.

  
“How dare you talk about yourself like that while you’re in me,” Haru huffs.

  
“Huh? We don’t have to—I can pull out—”

  
“Don’t you fucking dare!”

  
Before Makoto can respond, Haru flips them over in one swift motion, and it’s Makoto’s turn to look surprised. Haru may be smaller than him, but he can be just as strong.

  
Then Haru bears his hips down, bottoming out on his dick, and they both moan at the sensation. Haru sucks in a breath and starts moving at a break-neck pace and they feel the spark of a firecracker ignite.

  
“Makoto, you have no idea what you do to me. _Fuck!_ ”

  
Haru finds the place that fries his nerves and drives into it like he might die if he can’t hit that spot again.

  
“If anything— _oh_ —I’m the one— _oh my god_ —who doesn’t deserve you.”

  
“Fuck, Haru!” And Makoto is arching back into the pillows, trembling and crying his name as he comes.

  
Haru rides him through his climax and Makoto reaches down and jerks him until he comes in his hand. He collapses on his chest and melts, Makoto stroking his sweaty, black hair out of his face.

  
“You really mean it?” Makoto asks.

  
Haru rests his cheek on his clavicle.

  
“When have I ever said anything I don’t really mean?”

  
Makoto chuckles softly, “You got me there.”

___  
  


The cherry blossoms are in full bloom, and Haru and Makoto sit on a park bench enjoying the outside world. Their time in quarantine was up, bringing a new appreciation for quiet moments like this.

  
“Haru-chan,” Makoto says, tugging his boyfriend’s jacket sleeve.

  
“Drop the -chan,” Haru says automatically.

  
“Look!”

  
Makoto points at a bluebird perched on a cherry blossom branch right above their heads. The bird chirps sweetly, cocking its head at the two men staring so intently at it. Then it flutters its wings and takes off singing. The petals from the tree drift down as Makoto stares after the bird.

  
“Beautiful,” he says.

  
Haru smiles, gently brushing the petals from Makoto’s hair.

  
“Yes.”

**Author's Note:**

> Coronavirus is no joke, people. Stay safe, and wash your hands.


End file.
